270.

The expanse between
sleep and surreality slides
inside to haunt me.

269.

The fall of lashes
on cheeks look to be such soft,
tender innocence.

268.

My head is full of
desultory wishes that
mire all progress.

267.

He passes through my
dreams in a haze of gold-
-dust and slow shivers.

266.

The desperation
of emotions too often
strangles attraction.

265.

As you ignore how
often your truth still finds a
way to end as lies.

264.

What differences
perception lends when realized
at the beginning.